Memories of an era when interrupted events dominated everyday life—beginning as the finest powdery snow, forming into a iced, hardened snowball. A sensed emotion subsides in all possible unexpected ways, spiraling into what feels like an existential abyss. Differentiated layers of thoughts and feelings, where previous memories and the present intertwine to form some surreal place.
This place is a palace of refuge in its worn, almost fallen condition with years of difficult winters, darkness and seclusion. You wait for me with open arms. Structure is nonexistent in this place—evil absent—instead, love thrives here in its purest form. This place exists only for a second.